the parish church of my youth was . . . a fortress for class-distinction

This passage appears in Housman's autobiography, The Unexpected Years. — George P. Landow.

heard a
venerable old Canon of Winchester thank God that, in this
Christian land of ours, unbelievers had on their consciences
not only the sin of unbelief, but hypocrisy as well; since
for worldly reasons, they were obliged to conform, and
pretend to faith though they had it not. And it was true
at that date, in country parishes at all events, that a doctor
who did not come regularly to church would have suffered
in his practice; and with all the other trades and
professions, religion had a commercial value which it was well to
recognize.

In that matter, at any rate, things have greatly improved
and bowing in the House of Rimmon has become a much
more voluntary performance than it was fifty years ago;
it is no longer necessary to go to church in order to prosper
professionally.

But, as I look back on it, the parish church of my youth
was still a fortress for class-distinction and the
appearances. In the middle aisle sat the gentry, here and there
among them a few of the more prosperous tradespeople;
the south aisle accommodated the smaller shopkeepers,
and the more respectable of the working-class; in the
north aisle sat the Sunday school children and the riff-raff.
But as a symbol of Christian equality (which, however,
went no farther) one front pew under the reading-desk
was given to the old men and women from the almshouses.
Also, in the choir, the gift of a singing-voice
levelled out class-distinction. . . .

I suppose that even now, in small country parishes,
the Church of England is pre-eminently the Church of the gentry and their retainers. But it would seldom now
be made a condition for a maid entering domestic service
in a gentleman's family, that she must forsake her own
connection and become a church-goer. That, however,
was the rule in our own family; and, elsewhere, through
out the neighbourhood the class-barrier between Church
and Chapel was rigidly maintained. It was some while
after we left home that we heard of the sensation caused
at Catshill, when the leading lady, having quarrelled with
the Vicar, betook herself to Chapel as a protest. Before
long, however, the adulation and attention which she
received from her fellow-worshippers, drove her back
again; for a lady to become a chapel-goer was too much
out of the order of nature to be simply accepted even by
those to whom it gave most spiritual satisfaction.

One hears a good deal of talk nowadays about the
decay of religion; and the Victorian age is spoken of as
though it had been an age of faith. My own impression
of it is that it combined much foolish superstition with a
smug adaptation of Christianity to social convention and
worldly ends; and that the main aim of the Established
Church was with as little mutual disturbance as possible
to make Christianity support Conservatism, and
Conservatism support Christianity. [137-38]